


The Downsides of Being A Human Lab Rat

by iamtheoneinthehole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:04:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheoneinthehole/pseuds/iamtheoneinthehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Jones had always fucking loved working on Immersion…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Downsides of Being A Human Lab Rat

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt given to me by the lovely ‘glackedandmullered’; In Immersion when Michael climbs into that box/space thing in the behind the scenes video, there are nails in the box. What if Michael gets caught by one and gets infected? This was a really awesome prompt to write, I just hope I did it the justice it deserves- Enjoy!

Michael Jones had always fucking loved working on Immersion.

He guessed there was just something appealing to him in the relative freedom the project gave him. Because filming Immersion was kind of freeing in the sense that it meant getting to leave the office for a few hours, leaving behind ragequits he probably should’ve made a damn start on by this point, or edits with rapidly approaching deadlines, just to go out to some random course and goof around with one of his boyfriends for a few hours. And sure it was all in the name of Burnie’s ‘science’ but that didn’t make it any less fucking enjoyable when it meant he got to spend that extra time in his day just messing around with his favourite Brit in front of the cameras.

Plus the ideas Burnie and the others came up with for these things were usually nothing short of fucking genius and this was no damn exception. Because today they were working with the idea of screen looking in real life and the redhead could only imagine how many dumb mistakes the two of them would end up making while trying to navigate the course with _that_ as a factor… Plus, who didn’t want to see him and Gavin pelt each other with paintballs? One of the main sources of appeal for the show after all, once you looked past the ‘scientific’ element of it, was the way it made the lab rats, so him and Gavin in this case, suffer. He knew it was the main reason Burnie had been so determined to bring it back after all so he was sure the fan base would fucking love the direction he and Gus had decided to take with _this_ one.

And so it’d been with a certain rush of anticipation and adrenaline coursing through his veins that he and Gavin had arrived at the paintball course that they’d be filming on today, the two of them setting off to scope out the empty houses for any potential hiding places, or pitfalls like the huge fucking hole on the course that Michael was almost certain that his boyfriend would end up falling into at some point because really, the guy was almost as fucking accident prone as Caleb was sometimes. Chances were he was gonna trip and almost fucking break his neck at some point… and maybe he should be a little more worried about the possibility but, fact was, Gavin was about as lucky as he was accident prone so chances were, he’d be fine.

Other than the hole, what’d really caught their eye on the course though was the shelf they’d found in front of one of the houses, the structure small and yet...“Do you think-”

“Hide in there?”

“I was gonna say that like-”

“Try and squidge in.”

And of course, because Michael was never one to back down from a challenge, he’d immediately rose to meet the challenged as he dropped to the ground, moving to attempt to cram himself into the small shelf-like unit. He had to twist around a little to successfully cram himself in there, much to the endless amusement of his boyfriend, but fact was Michael was just that fucking stubborn not to let this fucking shelf defeat him. And so he’d continued to push himself back into the unit, faintly registering the Brit’s words of encouragement as he’d finally managed to cram the rest of his limbs inside and…

It was then that he’d felt it, a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in his right shoulder as something caught it, even through the Immersion suit he was wearing and… “Ahhh… dude there’s nails in here.” Several nails as far as he could tell, since he was pretty sure that he could feel a few more jamming their way into his left leg. He pointedly ignored the pain though, keeping up the banter with Gavin for the sake of the cameras, and gradually slipping back out of the shelf with a joke about being ‘like a cat’.

After all, he’d definitely had worse. In fact, the bruising he’d likely wind up with from the paintballs, provided Gavin actually managed to hit him, would probably wind up falling into that category considering that, in his experience at least, that was way more fucking painful than the slight stab of pain that those nails had caused. So he’d said nothing, instead turning his focus to his boyfriend’s attempts to tumble through one of the empty window frames moments later. And as he’d watched his boyfriend fall out the other side, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little, lips curling into an amused smirk as he’d slung a casually possessive arm around the Brit’s waist, the two of them moving to check out the rest of the course. And just like that, the shelf he’d been in moments ago had been all but forgotten.

\----

The cuts had still stung a little by the time they’d finished up filming that day, the pain gradually shifting into more of a dull ache, but Michael had continued to ignore it, or at the very least had continued to damn well keep it to himself. Because really, the last thing he wanted to do was come off as some sort of whiny fucking bitch just because he’d managed to get himself scratched up in a few places...

The ache had continued to linger though, gradually fading in his leg though it’d continued to persist in his goddamned shoulder to the point that he couldn’t help but wince a little whenever one of his boys would catch it by accident. He guessed the skin there must just still be a little more than he’d initially realized. After all, he was pretty sure he’d caught the scratches one of the times that he’d fallen down into that goddamned hole… and okay he could admit his predictions had been just a little off there when they’d been looking around the course beforehand since, apparently, split screen vision made him just as bad, if not worse, than the Brit when it came to these things… and really, considering that, it was nothing short of a fucking miracle that the two of them had made it off the course unscathed…

Well, relatively unscathed provided you ignored the pretty huge fucking bruises that now covered most of his and the Brit’s bodies from where the paintballs had made contact, most of those having been formed after the round where ‘npcs’ had been brought into play… and Michael still hadn’t quite forgiven Lindsay for where _some_ of those paintballs had been aimed just yet… all the same though, they’d been mostly fine and with all of the bruises still littering his body, Michael had barely even noticed the extra ache in his shoulder from where the nails had caught him because really, what was one more fucking tender spot on top of those?

And because of that, at first, his boyfriend hadn’t even fucking noticed that the cuts were bothering him, Jack’s nurse-like instincts being focused more on the huge, circle shaped bruises littered along the redhead’s sides. Because those bruises were pretty fucking prominent, especially against his paler skin, meaning that it wasn’t until a good four days after they’d filmed that episode of Immersion that one of his boys had finally fully noticed them.

He’d been the first one down for breakfast that day, other than Geoff himself who’d been up a little earlier working on pancakes for them. He’d slipped into the kitchen, moving to press a light kiss to the man’s cheek as he went to grab the juice out of the fridge, when suddenly the man’s hand had made contact with his shoulder and… _fuck._ He could feel the flare of pain rocket through the scratches, visible grimacing as a pained hiss escaped his lips…

And moments later, Geoff had been switching off the hob, not even giving a second thought to the goop now drying out on the pan as he all but demanded to take a look at the redhead’s shoulder… and while Michael had never exactly responded well to being told what to do like that, the obvious concern in the man’s eyes had him relenting and letting the man take a look at the wound, only to have him frown a little as he’d commented on the fact that it didn’t seem to be healing up as quickly as the marks along his leg, as quickly as it _should_ be healing…

But Michael had been quick to wave off his concerns because he’d still felt nothing more than a dull ache from the wound… well admittedly that plus the occasional flare of pain when someone actually made contact with it but… while that was, admittedly, growingly to be a pretty big fucking annoyance really, it wasn’t as if it was anything that was causing any real, _serious_ damage and it wasn’t as if he’d had any other, more worrying symptoms like dizziness, nausea or the pain spreading to other places so... even though it kind of fucking sucked to have to fucking deal with it, he still wasn’t all that worried about what’d happened here. And eventually he must’ve said something to set the gent’s mind at ease because eventually the man seemed to drop the topic, even going so far as to back him up when Jack had voiced similar concerns later on that day.

Because if Michael was in any _real_ pain or danger here, he’d tell them and Geoff knew that...

All the same though, as the days continued to pass without any real improvements to the marks marring his shoulder, Michael had started to wonder if maybe him and Jack might’ve had a fucking point when they’d told him about their concerns… because surely there was a fucking reason that they hadn’t started healing by now, especially when the marks on his leg were almost gone by this point… and if there was? Well, he couldn’t exactly imagine it’d be a good one.

\----

It was just about a week after they’d filmed Immersion when he’d really started to fucking worry about it.

He’d been working on a new ragequit, most of his boyfriends having opted for an early lunch break so as to get away from the screaming, though Ray had stuck around to keep the redhead company. And honestly, Michael had kind of appreciated that, especially when he saw the man’s amused little grin as he screamed at the game he was playing, the man’s subtle feedback on his work honestly more helpful in determining which parts of the video were good content than any viewer count or comments section ever would be...

It’d been about ten minutes into his recording when it’d happened.

When the pain in his shoulder had suddenly flared up, almost unbearably so, to the point that he’d actually had to fucking drop his controller, letting it clatter to the desk in front of him as he’d waited for the spasms of pain to finally subside.

And before he’d even realized it, Ray had completely fucking abandoned the edit he’d been working on, the younger man bolting out of the chair and taking Michael’s hand in his, allowing the redhead to clench tightly around it until the pain had finally subsided before he’d finally offering up a hushed, tentative, “Are you okay?”

Michael nodded minutely, still honestly feeling a little shaky as the agony gradually started to fade back into the background ache he was used to, “Yeah… I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because that sure as hell didn’t _look_ fine for a few minutes there… want to go take your break early? I’m sure Geoff would understand.”

“Nah, I’m good. Just got a random neck spasm I guess, nothing serious...”

“You sure that was a-”

“Yeah I’m sure... Go back to your edit dumbass, I’ll be fine.”

“Love you too asshole.” But there was a slightly relieved grin on the man’s lips that gave the intent behind his words away and, moments later, those lips were on his, soft, sweet and teasing the redhead a little with the way they’d lingered over his for a few moments before pulling back. And Michael had been just about to chase after them when something had suddenly tightened itself within his jaw and…

“Fuck.”

“...You sure you’re okay?” His boyfriend murmured, eyes skimming over his slightly pained expression for a few moments as he’d gently carded one of his hands through the redhead’s hair.

“I’m fine… I might take that early break though.”

“Go for it, I’ll let the others know just… Take all the damn time you need and take it easy for a while, okay?”

And Michael had simply nodded in response, leaning to press another light kiss to Ray’s cheek before leaving to do exactly that. Because the pain in his shoulder and the sudden tension in his jaw? Well, they were probably just side effects of how hard he’d been pushing himself lately, completely unrelated to any of the injuries he’d received during the shoot for Immersion because… well surely whatever the fuck this was he’d just experienced couldn’t be related to that, could it? Because wouldn’t it have already fucking kicked in by now if it was?

And so he’d done his best to ignore the sudden tension in his jaw, using it as fuel even for his ‘rage’ when he’d gotten around to finishing off the episode.

It was only at the end of the day when the tension still hadn’t faded, not even slightly, that Michael had genuinely started to grow concerned. Because, if anything, the stiffness of his jaw had only gotten worse as the afternoon had wound on, to the point where even actually getting his jaw open to eat the food Geoff had cooked for them that night had been a considerable fucking struggle and… well that wasn’t exactly a fucking ringing endorsement for his state of health right now, was it? There was the same dull ache there now too that’d been in his shoulder earlier in the week and the same sense of concern Jack, Geoff and Ray had all felt over it now coursing through the redhead himself…

And that night, when the others had gone to bed, Michael waving them off with the excuse that he still had to edit the ragequit he’d filmed earlier, the tension in his jaw had descended into occasional spasms of the muscles there and… okay now Michael was seriously starting to get fucking worried because the tension in his jaw he’d been tempted to write off as stress but this? This was definitely something a lot more fucking serious.

\----

He’d eventually given up on the idea of getting a decent night’s sleep that night, instead sprawling out along one of their couches and actually getting to work on the edit he’d used as an excuse earlier… only to completely lose his focus a few minutes later as a sudden burst of white hot pain shot through the back of his neck.

He’d sat up with a sudden jolt, worried for a moment that he might’ve sent his laptop crashing to the floor in the process, though he’d thankfully managed to catch it just before it’d managed to topple over onto the ground below. He’d quickly set the technology aside after that, grimacing as another bolt of pain shot through him, burning its way through him and back down to the cuts on his shoulder and…

That’d naturally been the moment when Ryan had wandered in, eyes immediately narrowing in concern as he’d caught sight of Michael, hands balled into tight fists and jaw clenched in an obvious grimace, as he’d entered the room. He’d been at his side in moments, asking him what was wrong and not believing him for a moment when he’d claimed it was nothing… and maybe the man was remembering how concerned Jack had been about those cuts to his shoulder before because moments later and he was gently coaxing the redhead out of his shirt and… For a moment the room had fallen deathly silent as he’d caught sight of the man’s expression, wide eyed, obviously concerned, the man’s gaze pointedly fixed on his shoulder.

“I know, the marks still haven’t fucking healed. You’re not the first to worry about that but... they’ll be fine.”

“Michael had you even fucking looked at these lately?”

“Not for the last day or so… why?” Ryan hadn’t offered him a verbal reply, instead steering the redhead towards the nearest mirror and _oh… fuck_. Because the cuts hadn’t just _not_ healed, they’d gotten so much fucking worse. The skin around them had turned a dark shade of angry red that only seemed to look more stark against the paler skin surrounding it… what really drew in Michael’s attention though were the cuts themselves. Deep, congealed looking, dark… he’d honestly almost fucking gagged just looking at them and, judging by the look on Ryan’s face right now, his boyfriend wasn’t faring too much better in that respect.

He’d been quick to more away from the mirror after that, quickly asking for his shirt back and trying not to freak out too much when he’d spotted the faintest smatterings of blood along the fabric… and clearly Ryan hadn’t missed them either given the way he’d tensed up that much more as Michael had slipped the shirt back on...

\----

He’d asked Ryan not to tell the others about it, bribing the man with the promise that he’d get it checked out as soon as he was done with work that day considering that he was only really needed in for RWBY that day anyway and surely an extra few hours wouldn’t hurt at this point… and his boyfriend had, eventually, reluctantly, agreed telling Michael to book the appointment ahead of time and to come find him when he was done with recording so they could head over together.

And honestly, Michael was more than a little fucking grateful for the support his boyfriend was offering given how seriously fucking freaked out he was starting to feel over this. Because now that he knew what the cuts _really_ looked like, he was almost hyper aware of them meaning that even the slightest damn twinge of a muscle there had him internally freaking the fuck out, even as he’d forced himself to stay in character as they recorded his line for the show.

It’d been about ten minutes into Michael’s recording session when he’d started feeling a little… well _off_ he guessed.

The first thing he’d noticed was how hot the recording booth had suddenly gotten, almost stiflingly so in the way that reminded him of Texan summers and yet… a few minutes ago it’d been fine in there. Perhaps it was just that the technology in there had been left running a little too long and was starting to overheat itself, perhaps it was just that some kind of air conditioning in the room had faltered. All Michael knew right now was that it was fucking ridiculously hot in the booth right now, to the point where he actually felt, and was only narrowly resisting, the urge to fan himself as he read the lines, and growing increasingly frustrated with his own delivery of them given how the sudden heat seemed to be throwing him off his game a little.

And so he’d asked for a few moments break to mull them over, Kerry and Miles readily agreeing as the redhead moved to grab a drink of water and clear his head a little… but even that didn’t seem to be helping him escape the heat that seemed to still be on the gradual incline, to the point where he almost felt as if his skin was actually burning… And, maybe as a result of that, his body suddenly began to feel a little more lethargic, weakened, his head beginning to drift into a hazier state to the point where he’d actually had to move to take a seat for a few minutes, just to stop the goddamned room from spinning.

It was then that the redhead had finally realized that it wasn’t the room that’s temperature was rocketing… it was _his_.

Of course his first fucking instinct, usually, would be to panic at this point but something about the lethargic state he was currently in didn’t allow him that reaction, or any really other than indifference and a hazy sort of weariness… because maybe if he could just drift off for a few hours now, this would all just slip away…

It’d only been the feeling of his pulse hammering away in his throat that’d finally snapped him out of it and suddenly, even through the hazy sort of fog that had settled over his mind, he was painfully aware of the fact that he was seriously in some fucking deep shit here… because the pain in his right shoulder had never been more fucking intense and the searing, practically fucking unbearable heat in his body was still climbing and he was pretty damn sure he could feel the muscles in his body begin to spasm in little jerky movements and… had the room always been that goddamn blurry?

He’d just opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to tell Kerry or Miles that something was seriously fucking wrong here, when he’d felt his knees finally give way and suddenly he was on the floor, the hard, cool surface pressing up against his cheek in a manner that was almost reassuring when met with the raging furnace of his own skin and suddenly he’d found he didn’t quite have the will to get back up again because it was nice there, peaceful.

And the hazy sort of weariness he’d felt earlier seemed to surge up once more, even as he faintly registered Kerry’s presence at his side, the man’s hands on his neck while Miles yelled for someone to call an ambulance… the meaning of those words were entirely lost on the redhead in this state though and,  moments later, he’d finally given in to the sudden weighty heaviness of his eyelids, his blurry vision shuttering into black and then…

\----

He’d come to, what must’ve been hours later, in an overly bright, white-washed room that it’d taken him a good few moments to realize was actually a hospital ward.

The first thing he’d noticed that’d clued him in was the drip in his arm, needle embedded deeply into his left wrist, though he found he could barely even felt it there which must’ve meant either that he was still half asleep or there were some kind of painkillers in that drip… and given the fact that his shoulder wasn’t currently giving him any grief, he’d put good fucking money on the fact that it was the latter of the two options

The second thing he’d registered was how fucking uncomfortable this hospital gown was. It was itchy, flimsy and clinging to the redhead in all the wrong places… but he’d quickly forgotten about that when his third observation had finally registered in his mind.

Because that third observation had been the sight of his exhausted boyfriends scattered about the room, the five of them obviously having drifted off at some point while they’d waited for the redhead to wake up. And he couldn’t quite help the sudden, almost overwhelming, pang of guilt that’d made itself known within his gut, twisting like a sharp blade between his ribs, as he’d thought about what he must’ve put them all through with this and _fuck_ he really should’ve just gone ahead and gotten those cuts checked out after they were done filming Immersion. Because maybe then they could’ve avoided all this.

He’d quickly been drawn from his thoughts, however, as Gavin and Geoff had both started to stir at his left side, theirs eyes taking a few moments to register the fact that the redhead was awake… and then suddenly he’d had a Brit barrelling into him and clinging tightly to the redhead, his head moving to rest in the crook of Michael’s neck as he’d murmured something about him being a ‘bloody idiot’ and the rest of them being ‘worried sick’ and how he really ‘should’ve just bloody told them’ that something was wrong. And the redhead had sat there, hands smoothing in gentle, soothing patterns along the Brit’s back, silently agreeing with everything the man had to say and readily promising when Gavin had pulled back that he wouldn’t be doing this to them again.

Moments later and he’d been in Geoff’s arms, the man pressing a light kiss to the redhead’s forehead before he’d gone on to explain what exactly it was that he’d had to be treated for in here, “Turns out your dumb ass had a pretty severe case of Tetanus. Ryan said he’d had his suspicions after he saw the marks on your shoulder… he still hasn’t stopped beating himself up about not forcing you in here sooner you know? Ray too since apparently you’d tensed up during a ragequit earlier that day and told him it was nothing? Honestly, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you had a goddamn death wish… Thankfully the doctors said we’ve caught it in time so it shouldn’t come to anything like that but… another week or so untreated and it might’ve been a different fucking story.”

And suddenly Michael could understand why Geoff looked so goddamned pale right now, why all of his boys looked so fucking exhausted and why, for the last week or so, he’d gradually begun to feel more and more like fucking death warmed over because… well, given another week of being a fucking stubborn dumbass about all this and he might’ve been. And wasn’t that a goddamned sobering thought really.

He’d been quick to launch himself into apologizing after that, perhaps being a little too loud in the process given the way Ray had suddenly stirring on his right moments later, a relieved happy grin coming to his lips as his eyes had managed to register for themselves that the redhead was okay. And shortly after that he’d been nudging Ryan awake and Jack had been stirring at the foot of the bed and suddenly Michael was the centre of warm, tentative embraces and light kisses and an almost overwhelming collective sense of relief that seemed to be practically radiating from these men.

And in the end they’d gotten him to stop apologizing because ‘fucking hell Michael, we’re just glad you’re okay’. Geoff had made a pretty big point of calling him a ‘fucking dumbass’ for coming into work once he’d seen the infection in those cuts though and of letting the redhead know that he was to be on strict bed rest for the next few days, days that Jack had apparently already booked off work to take care of him.

He wasn’t exactly about to fight them on that. Because even with the painkillers in his system, he still felt pretty fucking rough really and honestly he couldn’t think of anything better than being taken care of by the man and his pretty damn impeccable bedside manner right now… In fact, it actually sounded pretty close to goddamned perfect.

\----

It was a month or so later before they’d filmed the next episode of Immersion, this one being filmed in the woods in order to re-enact Slender, with the two of them wearing headsets that only allowed them to see a circular lit up area as they ‘played’ in order to mimic the way the torch worked with the games.

Because they were filming it at night, they’d naturally allowed the boys to scope out the area they’d be filming in first and somewhere in the process they’d come across an old rickety looking house with a wooden trunk sat on the landing that could probably act as a pretty fucking decent, albeit unconventional, hiding place if they wanted to get a little more creative with hiding from the ‘Slendermen’ who Michael seriously suspected would be played by Lindsay and Barb given their involvement with the series so far.

And for a moment, the thought had crossed his mind to test out the hiding spot, see if it actually would work as a last ditch attempt to avoid Lindsay or Barb… but then he’d remembered the last time he’d climbed into something small, cramped and wooden for the series, a phantom pain shooting through his fully healed, albeit slightly scarred, shoulder at the memory. And after that he’d been pretty damn quick to write it off, tugging Gavin off somewhere else to explore as the night slowly began to creep in.

Because as much as Michael Jones fucking loved working on this show, loved the freedom and the random locations they got to work in and the absolutely fucking insane ideas that Burnie came up with. And as much as he put his goddamned all into making the footage as entertaining as possible, perfectly willing to make himself and Gavin look like fucking dumbasses in the process… the slight comedic value of him in that trunk _really_ wasn’t worth risking the pain it might cause him or his boys later.

In short, as much as he fucking loved working on Immersion, there were things in life that he loved a hell of a lot more.


End file.
